Chapter 22

Wolf and the Trail of Tears

A cool wind blew from the northeast which swayed the arms of the trees like the soft waltz of a lover's dance. The forecast blanketed the sky above while the rest of the world stood still. Atop one of the lonesome trails that was enshrouded by the wilderness was a lone and mirky puddle that was as silent as the earth that adopted it.

Just then a massive hoof splashed through it followed by sturdy wheels thereafter. They were the hooves of Gallavaun who pulled fast to the trail under the order of his relentless owner. Ranger was attempting to make haste through the terrain in order to come to heel with the expedition, who was told of him, would depart from their camp at any moment.

As for Holo, after the hour of her pain and suffering she wept most of the remaining afternoon. Though the exact diagnoses as to what caused such a terrible fit went unanswered, she interpreted the worst possibility as an absolute certainty.

When she became too fatigued to mourn she lay silently on her side, never bringing her face to meet the sun. She was so still and quiet in fact, that at times Ranger would occasionally look back just to confirm she was still there.

Periodically every fifteen to twenty minutes Ranger would stop to check the map to be sure he was following the correct path. He would look from his compass and at Holo with such an uncertainty as to what to say, that he would only watch her shoulders rise and descend in attempt to translate her emotions with a shortage of empathy.

Eventually as they took a turn through the bend, the trees to the left receded down behind a small stream with various rocks and branches protruding hence. Checking the casks for fullness he realized that this would be the opportunity to replenish his ration of water.

He took the casks down to the river and allowed the current to fill them. While haunched and gazing into the foliage he heard a faint whimper to his right. It was Kaytaff who was sitting and facing him with a small stick in his mouth and eyes that yearned.

Calmly Ranger took it from his fangs and arose in which Kaytaff haunched and wagged his tail in anticipation. With a crisp swing of the arm the stick went hurling asunder with the excited shepherd dog charging after it. Happily the hound retrieved it to have another go.

The routine continued for a few more runs that varied in course, be it through the trees or splashing down the stream. It was simply marvelous how Kaytaff could find the most joy and life in the simple things inanimate.

It was on the fifth throw that Kaytaff, when half way back through the stream, stopped suddenly with his front paw chambered up as if frozen in time. Ranger at first assumed he was being reluctant in giving his trophy up until he started growling at him.

Slightly stunned that the dog would turn on its master in such a way, Ranger was about to discipline him until realizing that Kaytaff was not staring at him but at what was behind him. He looked back at the wagon and realized that the hound was reacting to something sinister within the trees on the other side of the trail.

He called his companion to his side and cautiously perceived his surroundings for any oddity that could jump out at him. He took cover then peeked over at the swaying trees. The air was still, heavy and filled with the unknown.

Kaytaff kept his snout fixed and his eyes immovable as though entranced. Then just as a spell that is broken returns its victim to their voluntary state of mind, Kaytaff's focus was broken and he returned to his usual self. Whatever threat, if any, that dwelt within the woods had surpassed.

With time more pressingly of the essence, Ranger went down, retrieved the casks and placed them in the back then clambered in to retrieve his bow and arrows. He took extra care to not trample upon Holo, whose heavy emotions rendered her invalid, then got into the driver's seat with the Kaytaff curling next to him.

Now effectively armed and more ready for whatever lurked about, the wagon was put back in motion. Whatever sparked that episode was still unknown but Ranger knew there was something lurking within the woods that lay in wait, close and watching.

Near a small village that sat upon the banks of the Siakluk river not too far from Nyohhira, a ferry was drifting to the docks. Once the ropes were secured and the gate dropped, three men led their horses by the muzzles onto dry land. The Ferryman, when seeing them depart, smiled sinisterly while patting his pocket, "Thank you for reconsidering."

The one in the middle turned back and said, "Go to Hell!"

It was Lydford, Kovalsky and Samson who, when attempting to board the ferry had to return to Chief Reinhart and obtain the acquired sum of compensation to cross. Therefore putting them days behind the search for their long lost Sergeant.

"Chadrick be calm." replied Kovalsky to his professional other.

"How can you say that; Philip is most likely dead at this point seeing how no one we have come across has seen him."

"Well maybe that means there is still hope." came the enthusiastic tone of Samson who still maintained faith.

Lydford turned his wroth upon the young private, "You can hope in one hand and shite in the other and see which one fills faster."

"Let the boy be." rebuked Kristov in defense of the youth.

Lydford huffed through his nose and stayed silent as they walked their horses up the bank. They were about to mount the saddles until Samson took note of a little girl haunching by the banks drawing lines in the mud with a stick, and seemed in the season of gloom. Out of an odd impression, the young sentinel decided to approach her.

Haunching beside her, he said, "Hello young one, are you here on your own?"

She said nothing, only nodding her head with an emotional weight.

Lydford, when observing this random scene of selected interest, turned to Kovalsky who could only shrug and shake his head in return.

"Do you have a name?"

With a delicate voice that was as weak as a whisper she said, "Hanna."

"Well Hanna, what are you doing out here by yourself? Are your parents close by?"

"No, I live with Grandfather."

"Where is he?"

Her frown skulked harder, "He has gone away."

"Is that why you are sad?"

Again she nodded.

"Where has your Grandfather gone?"

"He went with the other man."

Samson's eyebrows creased with intrigue, "What other man?"

"The other man I found in the river."

"Did you find him about five or six days ago?"

She shook her head yes.

"Where did they go?"

She flexed her shoulders, "Away."

Samson suddenly pressed more diligently, "Hanna did anyone else see the man you found in the river?"

She pointed her stick to the left where a makeshift trail was formed from numerous feet trampling it into a path, "They live there where Grandfather's workshop is."

The sentinel then arose and approached the other two corporals with a rejuvenated step, "Gentlemen we have a lead." said he.

"How's that?" asked Lydford.

"The young girl here said that they found a man in the river a few days ago and just left with her Grandfather."

"You think it was Bourgeois?" asked Lydford with a shift in attitude.

"With every fiber I do."

"How can you be sure?"

"Well we can take this trail to wherever and see if we can speak with an adult who can answer more questions."

Lydford rubbed the back of his neck until Kovalsky said, "Let's get there then and see what we can discover."

The trio threw their feet into the stirrups and spurred their horses to the trail. Their beautiful manes bobbed up and down while their tails of silk flickered and waved through the terrain like smoke in the wind.

The three sentinels, upon first observation, where convinced that this lodging spoken of did not exist, for the path was so narrow and winding and the foliage was all too thick. However, just as the parting of the red sea had shown the children of Israel a way from Pharaoh's grasp, a parting in the trees had shown the men that which they desired.

The small village was less than active, mostly due to the fact that the better part of the day was spent by each man to the production of goods and effecting of their purposes. Whoever still remained, however, were quick to notice the invasion of three strangers whom had been kept from their corner of the world.

When seeing their pry and concluding that their business was in search of something, one of them approached.

"Good day sirs, I regret to inform you that if you are looking for an inn or store, you will have to go much further north."

Kovalsky was the first to address, "Actually we are looking for neither. (he then dismounted) A few days ago there was a man said to be found in a river and brought here, we would like to know more."

"Before I tell you anything about that,' said the man, 'may I ask who you are and what your business is with him?"

"Sure enough, I am Corporal Kristov Kovalsky of the Nyohhira city guard and these two are Private Samson and Corporal Lydford. And judging by the sounds of it, you may know more than enough."

The man became timid and took a step back, "City guard, have we been harboring an outlaw?"

"Not exactly, however he is a runaway we've been tracking for nearly a week."

"What has he done?"

Lydford stepped forward, "Our reasons are our own. We just need to confirm whether or not if he has been here."

He looked around before recollecting his composure, "I'll do my best to answer."

"First off, he would have had a terrible cut across his stomach and wearing the guard's tunic."

"I know as much as he was injured however I never saw what he was wearing, he was immediately taken in and tended to before I saw him."

"And where was he taken?"

That question wound up leading the trio into the cabin of Radovan Tenbrooke in which the door to the room that served for Bourgeois' recovery was opened for them. They entered the desolate chamber and began to prod.

"This is where you kept him?" asked Kovalsky motioning to the bed.

"For the duration he was here. It was unclear at the time if it were to be his sick bed or death bed."

"He was that far gone?"

"The coldness of the river was able to slow the bleeding but we did not have a doctor in town and the one that could be fetched would not heed unless compensation was in order."

Checking under the bed, Kovalsky asked, "Supposedly you did get one?"

"Not from our own effort but from the random kindness of a stranger. You see as fortune had it, Radovan was able to speak with a man who came off the ferry who offered to pay the standard charge."

"Who was he?"

"The most Radovan could muster on his identity was a shadowy figure named Alden."

Lightning struck the room as each sentinel forfeited their prodding and affixed their gazes right on the man."
"Did you say Alden?" stammered Kovalsky.

"Indeed so."

"Corporal look!" piqued Samson who was holding a soiled tunic that matched that of Bourgeois, complete with a slash across the middle with faded crimson licking its edges. Lydford looked over it then at Kovalsky and nodded, "He was here."

The corporal addressed the man with a quicker earnest, "The man who was here in this bed, where is he now?"

"Him and Radovan have taken the wagon and left about two days ago."

"Did he say where?"

"I believe it was Valenfurt."

Kovalsky motioned to the others with his head and they were soon departing. The man followed after them asking questions, none of which were answered.

As they were mounting up, Samson asked of him, "That little girl Hana, she is Radovan's granddaughter yes?"

"Indeed."

"Does she have someone to look after her?"

"Radovan delegated that responsibility to me."

Samson nodded while biting his lower lip, "She is by the river near where the ferry disembarks, I felt you may wish to know where she last was in case you may never see her again."

Ever onward through the great and luscious wilderness did Gallavaun haul the wagon through. Ranger kept the reins in one hand while keeping a tight grip on his bow with the other. The small instance where Kaytaff showed hostility to an apparent phantom kept the masked man ever so vigilant in his defense.

Holo had not moved since the late afternoon, she took to laying on her right side and maintained that pose as well as a corpse. To Ranger however, it mattered not if she was silent or lamenting, for the journey pressed on as usual under any other condition.

The conditions, however, were changing, for the further they got, the chillier the air and frostier the surroundings. That is when pebbles of snow began to prance downward from the sky and were laid to rest upon his shoulders.

The snow, however was not all that was falling, so was the sun, and soon dusk would be upon them. Ranger felt his skin curl and pulled over to slip into his fur and leather bracers and boots that he kept stored for times such as these.

Once he fastened them on he was about to climb into the driver's box until looking to his left and seeing the backside of Holo who lay curled and still. He looked upon her delicate and vulnerable frame with contemplation. It was unusually unnerving to see her as such, for she portrayed a vulnerability that could penetrate the most warranted of emotional securities.

Then without word or notion as she was thus laying motionless, a blanket was laid over her shoulders with gentle care by his hands which soon retook their place at the reins.

The soft caress of the wind grazed his face in which his nose caught a promising scent, it was smoke. He looked up and saw a stream of smoke funneling over the horizon; somewhere nearby a campfire was lit.

The reins slapped the back of the shire which put him into a trot. The wagon was taken off the trail and briskly navigated through trees in lead of the scent. The wheels rocked and rumbled through the terrain as the smell of cinder and ash was getting stronger.

The horse was reared back and came to a skidding halt. There was evidence of a camp being stationed here, with the clearings and overturned logs surrounding a smoldering fire pit, however it was empty. Nothing could be heard or seen in the distance which indicated the vacating of the area was less than recent.

Ranger's boots hit the sod with a weighted thud and were soon stepping towards the encampment. The dying embers may have been brought back to life when the wind circulated the air and nearly caused another blaze to set anew.

With a heavy sigh Ranger went back to the wagon and took his flint from it. He would consider following after the group if their was a reasonable bearing to head with, but the lead was cold. At this point he chose to reignite the fire and set up a quick camp.

With the flames re energized he soon had caribou steaks roasting over them while he rested his chin on his knuckles and contemplated the situation. Kaytaff was sitting nearby and waiting for the meat to cook all the way through, while Ranger looked back at the wagon to see if the aroma of fresh meat would arouse her from her depression.

The wagon however, did not stir.

The first slab was ready in which he took it back to the wagon and laid it by Holo who still had her back facing him.

"We are going to rest here for a few moments, I recommend you eat something." said he.

She said nothing.

He reached for her, but then withheld. She was so still it was unsettling. Even her perfectly triangular ears conveyed no signs of enthusiasm. He went back to the fire, slid down his mask and began eating.

He was apparently malnourished as the moment his taste buds were hit with the savor of the meat, he consumed his steak in less than a minute and cooked another. Once finished he slid his face mask over his lower half and went back to the wagon.

The caribou steak was untouched with its intended owner seen as she was left. Ranger made one more attempt to speak to her.

"The insurgent group has left, I know not what their heading is, however, perhaps you can track them. Perhaps their scent is not too afar off."

Nothing.

"Even if they cannot be found, the Ketchiwa mountain is still the intended target. From there we can find Jurgen's mansion."

Again, nothing.

Ranger bowed his head and closed his eyes, "Holo please…I need your help."

The results were the same.

He turned his back and stemmed his tongue and welling emotions. He brushed the snow off his shoulders and realized that his most effective means was to get back to the trail and keep heading deeper into Yoites and only hope he would find the party.

The wagon found its way back onto the trail which went from winding from left to right to a straight incline. The road continued upwards until it curved around the rock wall to the left. From their the soft patter of winter became a blanket of white that covered the vastness of the wilderness in a sheath of frost.

This made the wagon extremely difficult to move through as the snows thickness took up a quarter of the wagon wheel. It was not long until the trail was lost completely and had to be navigated by means of an estimated guess.

The plain leveled out and was now showing the wagon being lead through a labyrinth of trees, rocks and knee deep snow. The trees were becoming denser and larger while the valleys were becoming grander and deeper.

They appeared to be at the parapet of mother nature herself when Kaytaff began growling again. Ranger took his bow and readied himself when seemingly out of nowhere, when the scenery was calm and the air docile, Gallavaun let out a loud and panicked whinny.

Before the coachman knew it, the shire started into a frenzied run that bound into all directions throwing the wheels up and down.

"Whoa! Whoa!" whooped Ranger as he pulled up on the reins to get the beast under control.

Gallauvan went down the slope that put the wagon air-born and slammed into the earth with terrible might. He then made a hard right which caused the wagon to jack knife and break free from the steed.

Ranger was thrown from the seat and sent rolling down the hill while the wagon skidded and slid off a nearby ravine with Holo still in the back.

As he tumbled, Ranger attempted to stabilize himself at high speeds but could not come to a halt as he flipped and twirled right into a nearby tree. His face hit the trunk with such force that it sifted some white powder free from the branches. His attempts to regain control of his fall ceased after that.

His lifeless body slid down a few dozen more feet and had his transit ended when he flopped over onto his stomach. His breathing was agonized and his eyes fluttered randomly before resting and becoming still, soon after he was enshrouded by darkness and drifting off into an endless black.